


High Tension

by Kita_the_Spaz



Series: Sockathan Week 2 [7]
Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: Adorkable, I have a cousin like Melanie, M/M, Right down to the bad vamping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5410139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kita_the_Spaz/pseuds/Kita_the_Spaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a brief meeting with the bride, who thanked Jonathan profusely for standing in for the AWOL usher, Jonathan was sent to join the other usher while Sock sat nervously next to Jonathan’s mother.</p><p>Continuation of “Wish Upon a Star.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, everyone, I finished Sockathan week without running late this time! ~cheers~ This one is a continuation of “Wish Upon a Star,” for all the lovelies who wanted more. I hope you like it.

“You look cute.”

Jonathan whirled away from the mirror, shooting a dirty look at the demon standing there. “Sock—!”

Sock shrugged. “Well you do. The suit is a nice difference. Though I have to say I prefer your hair the way it is normally. The slicked back look doesn't fit right.” Sock reached out as though to tousle his hair, but blinked and withdrew his arm.

Jonathan sighed and touched Sock’s shoulder. “People are going to get suspicious if you keep doing that. You can touch things.”

Sock puffed out his cheeks with a sigh. “I just don’t want to mess up your hair. I mean you did spend all morning on getting it tamed.”

Jonathan shot a scowl back at the counter full of hair products that had been required to tame his unmanageable mane into something... respectable. “Yeah, well, probably a good idea when we have to be there in a little less than an hour. It took more than that to get it right.”

Sock sighed and relaxed his shoulders. He spun in a circle. “What do you think?”

Sock was wearing a white long-sleeved button-down shirt Jonathan had outgrown a couple of years ago. It actually fit him better than it ever did Jonathan. Atop that was a dark purple vest his mother had brought in while Jonathan was trying to find things in his closet to fit Sock. 

“I found it on clearance last month,” she’d dimpled at Sock. “I thought of you when I saw it and figured I could give it to you next Christmas if this brat—” She reached out and cuffed Jonathan teasingly on the back of the head. “—-invited you back over again. But Jonathan said you didn’t have anything to wear to a wedding, so...” Looping an arm through Sock’s she tugged him toward the door. “Let’s go raid my closet. I have more colors than gray, white and blue to choose from.” She’d shot her son a teasing look. “I’m sure we can find something you’ll feel comfortable in.”

They had rounded out the outfit with a pair of black leggings, laced ankle-height white boots and an iridescent navy and purple flared skirt. Jonathan found the look to be very Sock, and almost admitted that he looked cute. He managed to cut himself off before the words could escape. “Not too bad,” Jonathan grunted.

Sock’s wild reddish brown locks had been tamed with a headband and a liberal application of hairspray. Jonathan resisted the urge to rumple them back into their normal near-gravity-defying state.

“Five minutes,” Jonathan’s mother caroled down the hallway. “Anyone not in the car by then rides in the trunk!”

Jonathan rolled his eyes but nudged Sock towards the door. “Let’s go before she actually decides she has to follow through on that threat.”

Sock nodded and headed for the door.

“Sock,” Jonathan called. “Feet on the ground.”

Blinking at the reminder, Sock stopped hovering and planted his feet on the floorboards. He blushed. “Uh, oops?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After a brief meeting with the bride, who thanked Jonathan profusely for standing in for the AWOL usher, Jonathan was sent to join the other usher while Sock sat nervously next to Jonathan’s mother, hands tucked under his thighs to keep from fidgeting. Jonathan gave him a reassuring smile before heading off to learn his duties, which boiled down to greeting people, asking if they were there for the bride or the groom and escorting them to a place in the pews. He could do that in his sleep.

He’d settled into place by the door when a chill crept up his spine. He glanced around the room, wondering what caused it. His gaze met a pair of pale blue eyes, heavily lined with black eyeliner. Despite being forced to wear something non-black, there was no mistaking Melanie, his cousin’s soon-to-be-stepdaughter. who was watching him predatorily.

Jonathan had to force himself not to flinch. He turned away, praying that since she was already seated, she wouldn’t get up and come over. Thankfully, another large group of people entered and Jonathan was too busy to be bothered.

Arrivals kept him moving right up until the music changed, a prearranged signal that the processional would be starting soon. Jonathan and the other usher retired to their seats. Jonathan slid in next to Sock, who gave him a small smile. Jonathan nodded back and turned his attention to the aisle as the music changed again, this time to an all too familiar tune.

Sock leaned against Jonathan to see up the aisle when the doors opened for the wedding procession. He didn’t move away even after the bride reached the altar and Jonathan found he didn’t mind all that much. Sock’s warm weight against him was something comforting in all the mind-numbing tedium of the priest's droning introduction.

The wedding went off with only minor hitches (the very nervous groom, dropped the ring twice trying to get it on the bride’s finger and the bride hiccuped tearfully through her vows) and Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief when it was all over. He only had to survive the reception and they could go home. 

They stood to leave the hall, Sock clutching the sleeve of Jonathan’s suit like he was afraid he’d get separated from him in the crowd. Thankfully, they quickly made it outside to the steps, where they received tiny bags of birdseed to pelt the happy couple with. Sock gazed at his thoughtfully and Jonathan poked him in the ribs with a finger. “Whatever is going through your head, no. You are not taking that home and using it to lure squirrels.” Jonathan muttered

Sock blinked up at him and a tell-tale red crept across his cheeks. “How—?”

“i figured you out a while ago.” Jonathan retorted, keeping his voice low, so his mother, standing nearby, wouldn’t hear. 

Sock muttered something, lowering his head, but obediently pitched the birdseed at the newly married couple.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The reception hall was crowded, and all Jonathan wanted to do was find a corner to hide in until it was time to eat and go home. He managed to find a fairly out of the way corner and retreated to its sanctuary. Sock stuck close, either holding on to his sleeve or pressed against his arm, obviously ill-at-ease with his new tangibility in a packed room of mostly strangers.

Jonathan sighed. How many more toasts before they could actually touch the buffet that servers were setting up along the long wall of the hall? His stomach grumbled because they’d skipped lunch in all the bustle of getting ready.

“Hello, Jonathan...”

Jonathan’s stomach dropped to the vicinity of his feet at the throaty contralto. _Why?_

“Mel—Sable.” Jonathan greeted, hoping his face wasn’t showing his dismay.

“Well, at least you remembered my name. I saw you at the wedding. I was hoping you’d come over and say hello, at least.” Melanie’s smile should have come with warning signs, considering how predatory it was.

“Um, sorry. I was busy, Y’know, being an usher and all.” Jonathan muttered. He’d forgotten (or blocked out) the other reason he’d spent the last family reunion hiding in the car. When she wasn’t going on about how much the world misunderstood her and her morbid ‘art,’ Melanie was a b-grade movie vamp. Because that was the only place he could think of where she might have learned her seduction skills.

Jonathan felt a little rumble against his arm and looked down at Sock in amazement. Was he _growling?_

“Jonathan,” Sock’s voice dripped with honey-sweetness. “Won’t you introduce me to your _friend?”_

Jonathan glanced between Melanie and Sock, a little perplexed by the tension in the air. What did Melanie have against Sock, when she’d never even met him. Sock, at least, had heard the story of her driving him batty at the reunion, so that could account for some of the antagonism.

On the sleeve of Jonathan’s suit jacket, Sock’s fingers tightened so hard his knuckles were white.

An impulse hit Jonathan, and he didn’t bother to fight it. Maybe he could out of this with his sanity intact. “Sorry.” He apologized with a laugh. “Sock, this is Sable. I suppose we’re— what?— second cousins now, by marriage.” Jonathan chuckled again, prying Sock’s tense fingers off of his sleeve and wrapping his own fingers around them. “Sable, this is Sock, my date.”

Melanie’s pale eyes widened and for a moment she seemed utterly lost for words. Her mouth opened, but no sound escaped.

Sock was so tense he practically vibrated, but he offered Melanie a toothy smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

That seemed to snap her out of the shock and Melanie muttered something under her breath. She nodded almost mechanically at Sock, mumbled something about just wanting to say hello and sidled away fast.

When she was out of earshot, Jonatha doubled over with a sharp bark of laughter. “I can’t believe that worked! Did you see her face?”

Sock’s laugh was weak and he tugged his fingers free of Jonathan’s. “Y-yeah... heh.”

Jonathan straightened up and looked sideways at Sock. Normally he’d be chortling gleefully over something like that., but except for two spots of color high on his cheeks, he was pale and bloodless, his lips fixed in a tight little smile.

“Sock?”

Sock didn’t look up at him. “Oh, look, I think they’re about to start serving food!” He darted away from Jonathan. “Hurry up, we should get in line so we can get a plate quickly!”

Bemused, Jonathan started after Sock’s shorter figure. Sock stood by Jonathan’s side in the line but his inane chatter was... well, more inane than usual, delivered in an almost breathless tone. By the time they’d gotten their plates and retreated to a fairly out of the way table, Jonathan felt like he was drowning in Sock’s endless string of words.

He put a hand over Sock’s wrist. “Sock.”

Sock’s voice cut off like a switch had been flipped.

Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief. "Dude, breathe. Eat. Remember how much you enjoyed eating at Christmas? Settle down and enjoy it. They went all out on this spread.”

Sock took a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Sorry.”

He played with his fork for a bit before Jonathan prompted him quietly again. After a bite made it into his mouth, Sock’s nerves seemed to calm and he ate with some semblance of appetite.

After a few more bites, Sock looked up. His green eyes were wider than Jonathan remembered them ever being. “Jonathan?”

“Yeah?” Jonathan set his fork down and focused on him.

“Um... uh, could you close your eyes for a second. I can’t think with you staring at me.” Sock’s voice wavered.

“You’re not going to try and stab me with your steak knife, are you?” Jonathan asked glancing down at the serrated blade in Sock’s hand.

Sock shook his head vehemently, and set the knife down on his plate. “No.” There was no bite in his tone, though.

Jonathan sighed and closed his eyes, wondering what the hell had gotten into Sock now.

A warm mouth pressed firmly against his own. 

Jonathan jerked, startled, his eyes popping open. Sock’s hands framed his face, holding him in place. His lips were soft against Jonathan’s and his tongue teased at Jonathan’s mouth. 

Without being aware he was doing so, Jonathan opened his mouth, allowing Sock’s tongue access. Sock took advantage of it, his mouth pressing more firmly against Jonathan’s and his teasing tongue twining against Jonathan’s.

When the kiss broke, they both sat unmoving for a moment, panting against each other’s lips.

Sock was the first to move back, eyelids shuttering his bright emerald eyes. “Sorry,” he breathed. “I... I wanted to do that in front of her, but...” He swallowed hard. “I... You— when you called me your date, I thought— no, I _wanted_ that more than anything I’d ever wanted before.” His shoulders sagged. “Anything.”

Jonathan just breathed for a moment, trying to bring the world back into focus. His lips still tingled and felt cold without the warmth of Sock’s breath over them. His mind flooded with a thousand small things he’d never really paid attention to before, suddenly cast into stark relief by Sock’s words.

Sock trembled and Jonathan found himself moving. He scooted his chair closer to Sock and carefully pulled Sock against his chest. “I... “ He wet his lips and tried again. “I don’t think I even realized I wanted it til I said it.” It was hard to force the words out but once they were, a great weight he hadn’t even been aware of lifted off of his chest.

Sock’s eyes brightened and a smile wavered on the edges of his lips. “You mean...?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan chuckled. “Well, at least now, I’m not lying to her... calling you my date, I mean.”

Sock laughed weakly and hugged Jonathan so hard his ribs creaked. “You’re mine.” he growled. “She comes near you again, I’ll show her just what a demon can do.”

“I’d like to see that,” Jonathan whispered into Sock’s hair, chuckling softly.


End file.
